


Watching, Wishing, Waiting

by ambpersand



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:14:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1677788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambpersand/pseuds/ambpersand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble for this prompt: (212) She throws back shots like they are NO-THING. I swear, she goes through like five straight tequila shots, does a jello shot, chases with half a hot dog, has a rum and coke, and then takes her shirt off and makes an impromptu bandage out of it for fuckin’ Tim who cut himself on the flagpole. I’m going to marry her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching, Wishing, Waiting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Babydoll Ria (Babydoll_Ria)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babydoll_Ria/gifts).



> Apologies for any issues or mistakes- this is completely unedited.

“I can’t believe graduation is tomorrow,” Marvel laughed, his words slurred. He was obviously drunk. “We made it, man! We’re college graduates!” he clapped Finnick on the back, but Finnick could see he was having trouble standing up.

“Just don’t throw up on stage while they’re giving you your diploma, okay?” Finnick chuckled, leading his friend to a nearby lawn chair. _At least if he gets sick, he’ll do it out here on the grass._ As he made sure Marvel was settled in the chair, he saw a flash of dark hair and a blue dress, heading back towards the house. “I’ll be back, okay?”

Marvel nodded and waved him off, more interested in the empty cup he had in his hand. “Bring me another when you come back!”

Finnick laughed as he walked away, knowing the last thing Marvel needed was more alcohol. Since it was the last party of the year, everyone was throwing all caution to the wind and being as indulgent as they wanted. The end of the year festivities had already been going on for several hours that night, and almost every person at the party was trashed, with the exception of himself.

And the girl he was following, Annie Cresta.

They’d never spoken, but Finnick had known who she was since their freshman year.

They both had rooms on the same floor of their co-ed dorm, and would often study in the lounge together late at night, when it was most quiet. She would always finish first, leaving a trail of coconut and pineapple scented perfume behind her as she passed by on her way out. For the two years they lived in the dorm, the most they ever exchanged were polite smiles.

He hadn’t thought much of her then, until their junior year. Forced to take a literature course to fill a requirement he had been putting off, Finnick walked into class on the first day, surprised to see Annie sitting in the classroom, her colored pens aligned in a neat row beside her notebook. That class was the first time he’d ever heard her speak, and she had surprised him. Her voice was light and airy, but she never hesitated to share an opinion on whatever book they were reading. She would give the most in depth analysis of a passage that Finnick had ever heard, stunning him with her ability to provide metaphors and describe scenes in a way he never saw when reading the books himself.

Their senior year, he had found himself drawn to the coffee shop where she worked. He tried to convince himself that it was because the café was so close to his apartment, or because he thought they had the best coffee in town. In reality, and he had only begun to be able to admit it to himself, it was the way her long dark hair was tied into a messy knot at the top of her head, and the way the green apron she wore reflected the color of her eyes. It was her soft voice, calling out orders, and the way her delicate hands worked the espresso machine with ease. He would try to study there, but would always find himself thinking about the spattering of freckles on her nose, and the way they stood out against her pale skin.

Then, tonight, at the beginning of the party when he saw her pouring a beer in the kitchen, Finnick stopped dead in his tracks. It was the first party he’d ever seen her at, and he’d never missed one.

When he watched her walk out of the room, he itched to follow her.

So, he had.

Five hours, two beers, four shots of tequila, and a rum and coke later, she was still on her feet. She’d only taken a break to eat a burger from the grill outside, which she had loaded with condiments until it was dripping.

He sidled up to Peeta, keeping his eyes on her. “Hey man, have you ever talked to her?” he nodded in Annie’s direction.

“You mean the girl you’ve been trailing all night?” he smirked. “Dude, I’ve noticed and I’m sure she has too.”

“Shut the fuck up and answer the question,” Finnick rubbed the back of his neck as he laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Annie Cresta. She’s in the art program too, we’ve had a lot of classes together. She’s nice. A bit ‘off,’ but nice.”

“Off?” Finnick was confused.

Peeta thought for a moment before explaining. “She’s really nice, and really smart, but she has these moments. She’ll stare off into the distance at nothing for hours on end sometimes; I’ve seen her do it in class and at the studio. Or sometimes if you try to talk to her, she won’t respond at all- sort of like she can’t see or hear you. I think she’s just wrapped up in thinking or something,” he shrugged. “Go talk to her. It’s almost 2 am and I wouldn’t be surprised if she leaves soon.”

Just as the words left Peeta’s mouth, a shout echoed from the room next to them. Out of curiosity they followed the sound in the kitchen, to find a drunk jock with his hand sliced open. A bloody knife had clattered to the floor, dripping on to the tile. His face as white and his eyes were glassy, _he’s probably too drunk to even feel the pain._ The blood was running from his hand in a steady stream, down his wrist and arm to stain the sleeve of his shirt.

Annie pushed past them, getting the guy to the sink and sticking his hand under the faucet before turning it on. “Don’t move,” she pointed at him, making sure he stayed where she wanted. When he did, she pulled the cardigan she wore off of her shoulders, and ripped the sleeve off with a loud tear.

Finnick watched as she pulled his hand from underneath the water, satisfied that the wound was cleaned out enough, before she began wrapping the sleeve of her sweater tightly around his palm.

“Agh!” the jock cried out at the pressure, and tried to pull his hand away. She smacked his wrist before going back to wrapping it wordlessly.

After she finished, she grabbed the phone, dialing a few numbers rapidly. After a moment, she spoke. “I need a cab. 2407 N Hyde Street. He’s going to the hospital.” Then she hung up.

Everyone in the kitchen was silent for a moment, looking stunned at Annie and her actions. Suddenly, they all erupted in cheers. Throwing their hands in the air, they crowded around her in drunken celebration. “Shots! Shots!” they all began to chant, grabbing bottles of liquor and passing them around.

“She’s perfect,” Finnick said, in awe. 


End file.
